Hobson's Choice
by macrauchenia
Summary: A choice without an alternative - My contribution to AruAni Week - Day One: "Lost and Found" - "Still, he feels like he's lost something precious as he leaves behind one last half loaf of bread on the step. He knows she can't be an angel—as they are immortal, forever. He and she are simply, painfully human. Mortal and lost." [Eight Days of AruAni] [Individual Warnings Inside]


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Not a thing. Visit "AruAni week" on Tumblr for more information about the week and come on and participate!  
**Warning and Author's Note: **Fluffy, K. This piece is kind of a spin off of my first few drabbles in Pirouette from Armin's point of view.

**Day One: **Lost and Found.  
_[A state of being: having been lost previously, and then found] _

* * *

He catches a glimpse of flaxen blonde before it dissolves amongst the sea of tired, blank faces. Armin blinks, half-wondering if the explosion of hair was actually the wings of angels amongst the crowd of mortals.

Although the Wallists had eradicated a majority of the tenants of the "old religion" or the religion before the titans attacked, Armin had poured over the theological passages in his grandfather's incriminating book about the old world. Angels in particular fascinated and terrified the boy. Great and gorgeous creatures with powers that surpassed the mere skill of mortals, yet they were damned down to heretical levels by the devout Wallists.

Armin accepts his daily bread ration with dazed thanks, too consumed in his sacrilegious thoughts to notice that the leering man gives him only a fraction of yesterday's haul.

.

Armin forgoes the bread line the next day and watches the crowd. His stomach rumbles, but he's rather used to the dull pain of hunger. The apprehension of seeing the angel again outweighs all of Armin's other emotions and feelings.

_There!_ He sees the burst of blonde as a slight figure darts through the crowd, clutching stolen rations under her arm. Armin feels disappointment manifest across his face in a tight frown when he realizes his angel is no more than a girl stealing. Perhaps feeling the boy's disheartened stare drilling into her mortal skull, the girl hesitates and peers over her shoulder at him. Blue meets blue for a brief moment and Armin gasps. She may not be an angel, but Armin is still hypnotized by her in that instant. The girl severs the connection and disappears, her blank expression remaining unchanged as she vanishes amongst the crowd again.

Armin hurries after her, ignoring Eren's distant and confused questions from the ration line. He barely manages to see the flash of blonde before it disappears around the corner. He calls for her to stop, but there is no response. Armin skids to a stop, breathless and eager, but his panting, gaping lips droop into a frown when he no longer sees the girl.

He does not explain this weird sensation when Eren pins him with obtrusive questions. He merely accepts their dwindling rations with an embarrassed thanks. He had been too busy chasing a daydream to eat.

He does not give up trying to find this mysterious not-angel.

.

Armin wakes when the sky is still dark to wait in line for rations. His is one of the first to receive his daily bread, but he refused to nibble even a crumb off of the hard loaf, despite his growling stomach. He waits for the girl to reappear, hanging like a shadow pressed against the cool stone of the building. Moments later, the girl rushes by, clutching another parcel of stolen rations. Armin wastes no time in running after the girl. He clamps his lips tightly shut to prevent desperate shouts of "wait" in hopes of halting the girl's retreat. Even though their gaze met for the barest moment, he realized that she was terrified. Perhaps more terrified of him than he is of the angels.

He eventually finds her huddled under a decrepit alcove down an alley. She eyes him suspiciously with those same piercing aqua orbs and Armin suddenly realizes that though angels are powerful, they are often bound by mercy. Humans are not restricted by such rules.

The girl's fingers curl into fists as she sizes up her equally tiny opponent. Armin immediately thrusts the bread in front of him. "I thought you were hungry," he babbles, flinching when the stony faced girl takes a menacing step forward.

"You don't have to steal," he continues, peeking at the girl through scrunched eyelids.

Calloused fingertips scrape across Armin's smooth palms and the slight weight of the bread is lifted from his palm. There is a muted tearing sound, but the boy still keeps his gaze adverted from the girl. A weight, much less than that of the loaf, drops back on his cupped palm, but he feels the rough edge of the standard-issued bread rind against his cool skin. When he opens his eyes after another hesitant pause, the girl is gone and half of Armin's offered gift remains in his outstretched palm.

.

He waits in the same alcove for an hour with the bread, waiting for her to return. She never does, but when he leaves half of the bread on the dirty step, it is gone when he comes back later that evening.

This little routine continues for nearly a month, but Armin never sees the girl up close again. However, he feels like he finally found a small piece of humanity in the world when he sees the empty, dark alcove each night.

.

He tells himself it's stupid to be so upset when he finds the soggy, molding loaf of bread still perched on the alcove step the next day. He tells himself that he should be happy—if the girl is truly gone or has reverted back to her habits of stealing, then he wouldn't have to give up any more of his precious food for a mere chance at finding a ghost each day.

Still, he feels like he's lost something precious as he leaves behind one last half loaf of bread on the step. He knows she can't be an angel—as they are immortal, forever and he and she are simply, painfully human. Mortal and lost.

.

Surprisingly, it is she who finds him years later. The boy mindlessly pushes around the overcooked vegetables on his plate, resting a gaunt cheek on a propped up knuckle. He knows he should eat, but for some reason his appetite is gone. He is too nervous to eat now after spending the first of many long, hot days under the fiery temper of his new drill sergeant, a certain Keith Shadis.

A half nibbled loaf drops onto the boy's plate and he jumps, startled by the jarring action. He slowly cranes his neck upwards to see his mysterious guardian angel. He blinks when his curious blue eyes eventually meet the somber, azure gaze of one of his fellow recruits.

_Annie Leonhardt…? _The boy wonders silently. The girl hadn't been one of the unfortunate few to have been publicly mocked by Shadis that morning, but Armin remembered overhearing the girl's name by a large blond named Reiner.

His gaze drops back down to the partial loaf on his plate and a faint feeling of familiarity begins to stir through the boy's memories. A desperate chase through the dark alleyway. The cool and dirty alcove step. A month of hunger. The angel turned human with a single glance.

He looks back up to the girl and smiled widely. Her own crystalline eyes are shielded with a haunted childhood, but Armin can find his own influence in their brief, warm glint when the boy breaks the loaf in half again and offers her the larger piece.

He has finally found her. Angel or mortal thief, he swears never to lose her again.

* * *

**One day down-seven more to go!**


End file.
